Val wasn't moving.

Breath was barely in her lungs as her eyes flickered rapidly between the two Mudhorns that paced impatiently before her, almost as if they were waiting for some unspoken order. The larger of the two tossed its head brazenly towards her, feeling out what kind of threat she would be — if she were a threat at all.

One of its eyes was milky white, blinded by four large claw marks that marred the surrounding skin. Its hide was leathery and tough, the sheer force it would have taken to pierce it was startling. Val didn't have to wonder exactly how the Zygerrian had survived them, but the assuredness of her own survival was beginning to waver.

A steel broadsword embedded into the ground to her right, the metallic hilt glinting beneath the artificial light. Val's eyes flickered to it, and then up to where it had fallen from.

"They will sing songs of your demise, Seaflyer." The smuggler called down. "And I will ensure the brutality of your death is not understated."

I'm going to tear him apart, a quiet dark voice in her head that was more beast than girl snarled. The more logical aspect of her mind rebuked with a sigh, not if these things tear you apart first.

Val edged closer to the sword, pulling it from the earth with slow methodical movements, ensuring she didn't set the creatures off. Her thoughts were somehow calm, collected, as she studied the space around her intently.

This was a situation she knew well, a situation she had experienced before. Vendetta was an intergalactic agenda, common across all species and worlds, and it was one that was intimately familiar to her. She could understand the smuggler's ire, his devotion to her demise; it was a kind of burning purpose that consumed everything you were. A gnawing hunger that threatened to devour you if it wasn't satiated.

Val had experienced it with Renfri; with the Jedi Council.

It was an age-old wound, and one she could navigate. Her time with Anakin had brought a plethora of new dangers, revealed new facets to her psyche that she wasn't even aware existed — it had established new extremes for what she would do to survive. What she would do for his survival.

But this, this pit in the depths of a cold metal heart was not new. It was a cavern that she had clawed her way out of time and time again, it was a darkness she had struck a match against a thousand times over — she had survived her own aching vengeance before, she would survive his now.

Somewhere above her, a shrill whistle sounded and the Mudhorns stamped at the ground aggravatedly. In that moment, their eyes locked onto her and they charged forward.

Val barely dodged in time; they were so much faster than their size should allow. She rolled to the side and stopped beside the wall, coming up on one knee. The matte material of the dress pulled tight around her legs as she tried to widen her stance. Val huffed and took the sword to the hem, cutting a slit to the upper thigh. With her increased mobility, Val made better use of the Mudhorn's second charge — waiting until she could stare into the whites of their eyes before ducking swiftly to the side.

A thunderous metal reverb sounded as the pair crashed head-on into the steel walls, shaking the entire complex with the force of it and causing the fluorescent lights to briefly flickered out before flaring back to life. Val allowed herself a fleeting smile before sprinting to the other side of the arena to give herself some distance.

While she ran, thoughts flashed across her mind in quick succession — anything she knew about Mudhorns, no matter how small, could save her now. They were herbivores with a concerning fondness of carnage, and were accustomed to large open-spaced arid environments — this arena and all the bloodsport they were given was likely killing them. Just as they were about to kill her.

They were brutally territorial, manifesting as unabashed aggression in an attempt to safeguard their den; somehow, these two had learned to coexist — she was the new threat to their territory. More information came to her from the depths of her memory, from the late-night lectures Rowan loved to give and Val begrudgingly listened to.

Their eyesight was poor. They relied on their sense of smell to navigate. They weighed upwards of a ton. Their front-facing horn was solid keratin and largely considered unbreakable, a commodity on the black market. They wouldn't stop until she was dead. At this point, she was just making useless statements that she assumed were true, whilst she bided herself time to avoid being skewered — of all the deaths that had almost taken her in years past, this was the one she liked least.

Her eyes flickered between the two beasts as they shook the disorientation away, and realigned their sights with her. Her grip was slippery around the leather-bound hilt as her hands lightly tremored — she had survived worse, she was certain. No particular instance came to mind, but they had to have happened, surely.

Val drew cold breath into her lungs and twisted her dominant heel into the ground, feeling her blood race through her veins as fast as the Mudhorns charged, bashing into the other to reach her first. Val narrowed her eyes before she propelled off the hard rock and sprinted to meet them halfway.

Her boldness seemed to startle them; they'd never had prey rush so willingly to its death. Their hesitation was all she needed. Mere meters from the beasts, close enough to see the murderous whites of their eyes, Val pushed sharply off the ground and vaulted up. Grabbing hold of the larger one's horn, she hoisted herself up onto its leathery back, using the appendage like a lifeline.

Gripping tightly, Val raised her sword arm and plunged it blade-down into the thick, grainy skin of the neck. Her blade punctured barely a hand length into the hide before a juggernaut force slammed into the Mudhorn's side, flinging Val across the stadium. She crashed back-first into the curved wall, her head smashing against the metal framework with a sickening thud.

Val fell forward onto her forearms, coughing vehemently, trying to force air into her battered lungs. She looked up through blurry eyes to see both Mudhorns staggering about, recovering from one crashing into the other in a desperate attempt to get to her.

Val watched them, the bones of a plan forming in her mind. There was no way she could survive them, let alone beat them; they were too fast, too big, too strong. She couldn't defeat them on her own, but maybe...

Your power comes from both the precision of your strikes and the sharpness of your mind. Think your way out of the problem. Use your opponent's advantage against them, make it work for you rather than for them.

Her Master's words, ever a beacon of truth, rang in her mind. Slowly, her strategy took shape. She could not fight them, but she could force them to fight each other.

Val shook the weariness off, reaching for her sword and stumbling to her feet. She huffed a breath, before yelling loudly to the smaller Mudhorn that had recovered quickest whilst the companion it had battered was still incapacitated — for the moment.

"Hey ugly!" She wasted no breath coming up with a creative name, it wasn't like the creature would know the difference. The beast fixed its eyes on her, her words drawing attention. "Come and get me!"

She struck the blade of her sword against the dome wall, causing a loud aggravating ringing to sound. The creature seethed and charged her. Val watched it approach calmly. She waited. Waited. Waited.

She didn't move a muscle until she could smell the blood on its breath, and only then did she leap to the side. The mammoth smashed into the infrastructure, dousing the arena in darkness as the impact shorted out the lights.

When the glow flickered back on, Val had already sprinted to the side of the area. She could feel the confusion and apprehension from the onlookers above; in her panic to stay alive, she had almost forgotten they were there. Above all else, she could feel the eyes of the Zygerrian smuggler burning into the back of her head as she continued her game of Loth cat and mouse.

She allowed herself a secret smile. Good, she thought, let him not know what I'm planning until it's too late.

Now, the second, larger Mudhorn had recovered. It barely noticed the state of its disoriented sibling as its gaze found her running across the desert scape. It began galloping forward to her at an alarming pace, gaining on her with every passing breath.

Val wouldn't have time to play the waiting game as she had before, she needed a new strategy and fast. She fixed her eyes on the metal wall that was coming uncomfortably close and the indents that denoted the separate sheets that had been soldered together.

She steeled courage into her bones as she continued her reckless course forward into the wall. Three breaths and she would be upon it, two breaths. One.

With the Mudhorn a mere arm's length behind her, Val jumped off the ground and kicked up onto the wall with two well-placed steps into the indented ledges. Pushing off with a powerful bound to propel herself backwards, Val flipped over the Mudhorn as it, too, collided loudly with the steel walls.

Val turned away to see the other still struggling to its feet, the familiar rush of victory flowing through her veins like liquid gold. She grinned widely, her eyes turning upward to meet the smuggler's gaze.

She gave him a smug smile, basking in the glow of having beaten his twisted game. Her smile, however, fell when he returned it with his own. His eyes flickered away and to something behind her, and Val turned too late.

Blinding pain seared through her side as the Mudhorn twisted around on its hind legs and struck her with its horn. The mark was off, as the keratin blade tore through the right of her torso. The force of the blow sent her tumbling forward into the centre of the arena, her bloodied side dragging across the red earth.

Val groaned pitifully, barely able to think around the pain as it spread from her torso to her limbs like an infection, burning through her body like she was made of fire. She tried to lift her head, to at least stare death in the eyes as it came for her.

Far below the ground, Val swore she could hear screaming. Like all the souls of the damned that had never escaped this place were calling her down to them; calling her to rest in the cold dark earth.

Val put her ear to the ground, listening as she should've listened from the start. The faint whispers became louder, synchronised; a cacophony of disjointed voices turned into one banshee scream.

VAL.

Her head snapped up. She knew that voice, knew it as she knew her own. Anakin was down in the dark, screaming his throat raw for her. He could feel her heartbeat slowing, feel her blood seeping into the unforgiving ground, feel her giving up.

He was begging her to hold on.

Val breathed deeply, feeling the air whistle in and out of her broken lungs in painful gasps as she rose onto her forearms. She coughed splatterings of blood onto the dark earth, wiping it away with the hem of her tattered dress. The dyed red ends were now what they played at being, soaked with her blood likely just as he had intended.

Val continued upward onto her knees, pressing her palm against her aching side. Feeling out the damage, Val's heart stumbled as her fingers pressed through her flesh, and knew she didn't have long. She needed to buy herself more time, just enough time for Anakin to find her — enough time to die in his arms.

You don't need time, the quiet darkness that had taken up residence in her fractured mind whispered, you have something better.

What? What do I have? Val almost asked aloud.

The parasitic thing in her heart smiled with needle-point fangs. Rage.

Cosmic energy coursed through her body, burning her veins with volcanicic molten lava, crushing her chest with the deep ocean's pressure. Val's eyes flickered closed as she painlessly stood up on her knees fully, her hands no longer trembling at her sides. Blood dripped down her fingers, and fell one, two, three, onto the dark earth.

She could hear the shuffling of dirt and steel as both Mudhorns stumbled to their feet and locked eyes on her for the last time. She could feel time ebb and become sluggish around her as the swirling dust and raucous jeers from above grew distorted and slow.

If she listened closely, she could still hear Anakin calling to her below the earth. And above, she could hear the sneering laughter of the smuggler king as he watched what he thought would be her death.

Val wanted to laugh in his face, in all their faces. The frozen heart of the Order couldn't kill her, the tundra of Krownest couldn't kill her, Rolfe's icy touch couldn't kill her. She was not, could not be destroyed. She was the destroyer.

She was the darkness itself.

Electricity crackled between her fingers as thundering hooves like the echoing of war drums crashed to the sound of Val's own heart. The Mudhorns grew closer and closer with every breath, and Val lost herself to the rhythm of violence with every passing beat.

Slowly, she raised both of her arms out to the beasts as they drew ever nearer. Darkness, pulsating and raw, burned through her veins and at her fingertips. Stars turned supernova and decimated the galaxy that resided within her bones, drowning whole civilisations in blood — terror was the price of salvation. Living in fear was still living. The stinging metallic taste filled her mouth, red dripped down her chin and became one with the earth once more, as she slowly looked to her right.

The Mudhorn came close, close enough for her to see the murder in its eyes. Val gave it and the watching universe an empty smirk, and closed her fists.

The effect wasn't immediately apparent, the vision of the spectators was slow to catch up. All they knew was that a broken girl had raised her hands to the raging Mudhorns, and they had just stopped dead in their tracks. Darkness filled the room, drowning out the lights and casting monstrous shadows against the walls — broken teeth and bleeding gums grinned from within the veil, taunting, tantalising, terrifying.

Every onlooker barely breathed as they watched the impossible spectacle unfold. Anakin, a mile away, felt it in his soul as a terrible darkness overcast the planet. He slammed against his cell bars with a furious intensity, desperate to reach her if it cost him his life. Suddenly, the door slid open and a hooded figure stood there with the collar control and a tracking beacon in hand. Unbeknownst to all but one, above ground, there were scores of black-clad agents congregated before the secluded entrance to the smuggling king's base.

Val felt none of this, she sensed none of it, as she raised her closed fists slowly and the Mudhorns rose in sync. Their terrified squealing and the cries of the crowd went unnoticed as her arms began shaking from exertion — as the darkness in her soul drained all the life that remained in her.

The burn in her side came back reinvigorated, fire tore through her skin and set her insides alight. Val tried to let go, to step away but the evil clung to her like a lightning rod, holding her to the vows she had made with the gods after dark. Val cried out from the pain, throwing her arms harshly to the sides. The Force complied with her will and the Mudhorns were thrown into the walls of the arena, plunging everything, including the shadows, into all-consuming blackness.

Val collapsed for the last time, her back falling against the earth and her eyes closing. Once more, she listened for the voice, the heartbeat, that she knew better than her own. She found it, faint and panicked. Her eyebrows furrowed as she listened more intently; as she realised she was hearing him not through the Force, but with her own ears.

Val turned her head weakly to the side as the arena doors were flung open and white light flooded in, banishing the darkness. She heard the familiar sound of dozens of weapons being loaded and the scrambling of criminals being rounded up.

A weight struck the earth near her and she felt the vibrations of footsteps racing towards her. A figure skidded to their knees beside her, taking her limp body into their arms. Gentle hands pulled her against their chest, pushed the hair from her face, brushed the tears from her cheeks.

"Stay with me," She heard faint words from behind her, but their voice was distorted like she was underwater. "Val, please. Please, stay with me."

"Anakin?" She whispered weakly, trying to raise her hand to his face. Tender fingers intertwined with hers and she could feel his heart beating through his skin. A soft smile came onto her face, the darkness in her own heart-lifting as he held her.

"I'm here," He whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I'm so sorry. I'm here now."

Val's head fell forward, her eyes sagging closed as her words slurred together. "It's okay. I knew you'd come, I knew I'd see you one last time."

Her heart slowed until it was barely beating, the ocean of her soul was nothing more than dusted fissures in the ground. There was nothing left of her; the anger and hatred had stolen all she was.

"Val, no. Stay awake." Anakin cried, panicked. He shook her shoulders roughly and Val lurched back to consciousness for a moment longer, coughing up a splattering of dark blood onto the ground. Anakin turned his head upward to the upper level and yelled. "Medic! We need a medic now!"

Another weight shook the fragile walls and scrambled towards her. Hands that weren't Anakin's cut open the side of the gown to reveal the torn and mutilated flesh, courtesy of the Mudhorn's tusk. A damp cloth-like material was pressed against the area and a cold burning flooded her veins.

Val writhed in this new pain, crying out as reinvigorated tears streamed down her cheeks. Anakin held her tightly, pressing his face into her neck and whispered pointlessly to distract her. Soon, the agony passed and a strange gelatinous gauze was wrapped around the wound, bringing with it a soothing coolness.

Val could feel the pain rapidly draining from her skin, and quickly found she could open her eyes. She immediately looked up to Anakin's relieved face smiling down at her, his eyes brimming with tears and his hands squeezing hers tightly as though he cared not for the darkness she had channelled — the darkness she had become.

"You're really here." Val reached up and brushed a stray tear aside, whispering to him with her broken voice. "How did you get out?"

"I had help." Anakin grinned at her, indicating the rim of the arena and the boy sat with his legs drifting aimlessly over the side. As Val's eyes turned to face him, Cai found her as well. He gave her a sheepish smile, half apology and half thanks, before standing and disappearing past the ledge.

Val smiled softly as she watched him leave, firm in her belief that monsters were not born, they were made — and they could be unmade.

"Skywalker," A booming voice called from above. Commander Modal stood at the limp of the ring, her hands sternly behind her back. "Get Aurez up here."

Anakin shook his head with an exasperated sigh, but moved to wrap his arms around her back and under her knees, supporting her healing body fully. He pushed sharply off the ground and leapt up to the upper platform gracefully; it was as easy as breathing to him, whilst Val's short-lived exploit had wrecked her body thoroughly.

She couldn't stand it, the helplessness that came with being reintroduced to Anakin's world — to the world of the Force, the Jedi and Sith. She hated feeling so weak, defenceless, powerless. That burst of Force had almost killed her; she could not be, no she refused to be, helpless any longer.

Anakin looked down at her, as though he could hear her thoughts — perhaps he truly could, she didn't know what the limits of their connection were anymore. She had heard him in the dark, drifting lost in her own mind — and he'd heard her too. And now he was here.

Val tried to take a deep breath, resting more fully against his shoulder when the agony in her ribs returned to its peak. Anakin flashed her a concerned smile, inclining to rest his forehead against hers. Warmth spread through her aching bones, and her splintering breaths came that much easier when she was in his arms.

Anakin pressed his lips to her forehead, whispering as he slowly made his way to the Commander. "I'm never letting you out of my sight again, seaflea."

Val snuggled closer, soaking in his warmth. "That's fine with me, buzzard."

He smiled brightly, before his eyes traced down to the tattered dress she wore. "Are you wearing a ball gown? I'm even more sorry I missed this now."

Val scoffed in annoyance, "I'd like to see you take on two Mudhorns in formal wear."

Anakin hummed in contemplation, cocking his head to the side. "Well, I think that outcome depends. Am I wearing a dress or a suit?"

Val snorted, "For fairness sake, let's say it's a dress."

"Well, then it's no contest," Anakin remarked jovially. "I would win and I would look good doing it."

Val laughed sharply, before they stopped in front of Commander Modal. The Commander spared a single glance to Val and her injuries, before her eyes drifted across the room to the scores of smugglers that sat handcuffed in rows.

"I suppose we have you two to thank for finally apprehending the Crusade and putting an end to their operation." She said by way of greeting, and Val almost rolled her eyes. True, she had been wrong — seemingly, the Commander had not sold them out and had completed the mission just as planned; but that didn't mean Val had to like her now.

Anakin took the liberty of responding for both of them. "Yes, you do. But our mission is not complete. We still need answers."

"And I know who has them," Val interjected, her eyes turned blankly to the Zygerrian smuggler who already had his eyes locked on her and was seething with rage.

Anakin followed her line of sight and saw the man kneeling defeated on the floor, his eyes narrowing as he understood instantly. He set her down on shaky feet, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist to steady her.

Val expected to feel a rush of pain through her limbs, but was shocked to find little more than a dull ache — it couldn't be the adrenaline, it had subsided from her veins. She figured it had to be the bacta patch that was wound tightly against the wound, slowly seeping life back into her.

When she was able to let go of Anakin's arms and stand by herself, even he seemed shocked at her rapid healing. Val smiled widely, gazing down at the ground, when a spasm of pain ricocheted up her spine. She grimaced, falling forward into Anakin's arms again.

He gripped her tightly, his hands clasped against the small of her back as he shook his head with an exasperated smile. The pain lessened as he laughed, and Val found herself laughing with him. Warmth flowed between the cosmic bridge that held their souls together, binding her wounded skin and his broken heart; cleansing darkness and fear, panic and rage — together, they were alive, safe. Nothing could hurt them as long as they stayed, holding each other.

"How about you just hold on to me?" Anakin asked lowly, his hands gripping the circumference of her waist fully.

Val laughed, nodding her head. "Excellent idea."

Anakin smiled, an utter feeling of peace in his being as he wrapped his arm around her waist, mindful of the gauze, and helped her walk over to the restrained Zygerrian.

Val made no effort to appear uninjured or smug this time, she realised that she only needed him to see her as she was — to see that she had survived, and that she would heal and grow like he never had. With Anakin by her side, always in step with her, there was nothing to be ashamed of. Scars were the hallmarks of survivors; she would add this to her collection, a testament to the oath that she would never stop learning.

Commander Modal walked three paces behind them, within range but allowing them the courtesy of a semi-private conversation. Val stared the man down as they approached, her face expressionless but her eyes conveyed it all — there would be no mercy this time.

"What did your client want with the girl from Lothal?" Val asked, her voice steady and emotionless.

Anakin side-eyed her, confusion evident only to her on his face. Val blinked, trusting their psychic connection to relay her thoughts in whatever form it could — his eyes blanked for a moment, and Val could almost see the gears whirring in his head as he processed what she had shown him. A heartbeat passed and his eyes cleared; he nodded his understanding and they turned back to the smuggler.

He spat callously on the ground, his previous demeanour of sophistication lost as he stared darkly up at her. "You should be dead."

"I should be a lot of things, but dead at your hands is not one of them." She replied coldly, but a small smirk crept onto her face. "Or should I say hand? Now answer me."

A murderous rage over him and tried to rush forward, hellbent on causing her more harm. Suddenly, an electric restraining rod made contact with his chest and he cried out, falling to his knees again. Val looked quickly to the side, catching a glimpse of the Commander holstering her weapon again.

"You were asked a question." The fierce woman remarked. "Co-operation will get you a long way."

The Zygerrian panted, glaring at them with unbridled fury. "I'll never talk."

The woman huffed, a dark laugh to her tone. "They all say that at first."

She turned to the pair as one of the task force agents escorted the smuggler and the remnants of his organisations away. Her expression changed to one that was almost appreciative as she spoke to them. "As soon as we learn something from him, you'll be the first to know."

"Thank you," Anakin said, altering his grip on Val's waist so they could turn to face the Commander. "But how will you contact us? We don't have a deep-space transmitter."

"You do now." She replied with a smug smile. Commander Modal laughed crisply at their confused faces. "Security picked up that you arrived here on a merchant shuttle, I assumed you lost your ship."

Val shot Anakin a glance, a half-smirk on her face. "You could say that."

He scoffed, squeezing her waist once and causing her to giggle. The Commander watched their interaction curiously, as though they were a sight she couldn't quite understand. "Well, we have an S-161 XL Corellian Gunship. Refurbished from duty and not a qualified pilot in sight, figure you two could use her better than us. Think of this as a show of gratitude."

Anakin returned her words with a kind smile, "Thank you, Commander. This means a lot."

She nodded curtly and handed Anakin an activation key and a transmitter chip, her required moment of gratitude complete. "You'll find it waiting in Bay eleven with all your gear, can't miss it. Input that comlink into your server, it's the line we'll use to contact you when the time comes."

Anakin returned her nod, and with that, the Commander turned and left to assist her men. Anakin turned the keycard over in his hand, Val watching from his right.

"Corellian, huh?" She remarked with an impish grin.

Anakin chuckled, pocketing the two items. "At least you didn't steal this one. Come on, let's go see what we're dealing with."

Val nodded and the two began the trek back up to the sunlight levels of Taris. After less than a hundred paces of Val wincing with each step, Anakin sighed and knelt on one knee before her, an exasperated smile on his lips.

Val grinned and climbed onto his back with a laugh, wrapping her legs around his waist and clasping her arms in front of his chest. Anakin gripped her thighs securely and began traversing the long stretches of dark metal buildings and decrepit alleys for the both of them.

As they reached the upper levels, blessed sunlight washed across her face like sea spray as Bay eleven came into sight. The whispers of a breeze swirled around them, and Val breathed the clean air in deeply — she couldn't wait to be off this metal monster of a planet and back out amongst the stars.

Emerging onto the dock of Bay eleven, Val realised the Commander had been right — the Corellian gunship was impossible to mistake. The ship was long and metallic silver in colour, with outlines and edges in a bright ocean blue. The driving fin that rotated for landings and stability protruded from the top of the craft, and the inscription along its blade read Dawn Chaser.

Val grinned, leaning down to rest her head on Anakin's shoulder. "We should help people like that more often."

He laughed sharply, "You did say you wanted your own ship."

Val paused for a moment, before swiftly pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Our ship, buzzard."

Anakin froze for an instant, his mind not computing what had just occurred. Val laughed cautiously, panic flaring as she wondered if she may have overstepped their delicate bounds. In truth, she wasn't sure where she drew the line between them anymore, couldn't say how far was too far — or if a limit even existed.

He was more herself than she was, could a distinction between where she ended and he began even be made? They were a tangle of starbright kyber thread and gentle cosmic hands, clinging to light and hope that seemingly existed in the shape of a human heart. She needed him, she loved him, in a way that language did not permit her to speak; words did not exist for how intrinsic he was to her soul. Nothing was too far, too dark, too dangerous — no morals governed what she would do for him, what havoc she would wreak to keep him safe.

But if he asked her to let go, to put all that darkness and terror behind her and just be — she would do that as well, in a heartbeat. Anything to keep him close, anything to stay in this heartbound home a while longer.

He laughed and pressed a quick kiss, barely a brush of his lips to the back of her hand that clung to his chest, and her being collapsed. She almost wanted to protest as he set her down by the entrance to the ship, but her words were lost as a rush of burning air entered her lungs. Val moved to lean against the side of the craft, dizziness overtaking her.

Anakin shot her a concerned glance and quickly fished the keycard from his pocket, lowering the ramp door. He scooped her back up into his arms, her fingers clasping around his neck instantly as he hurried up into the ship. The ramp closed behind them and Val's vision turned blurry-edged as pain overtook her once more.

A moment later, she was placed down on a soft sofa, lying on her side with her back pressed against the headboard. Delicate hands unwound the bacta gauze around her torso, pressing gently around the aching skin.

"I don't understand..." She heard Anakin whisper.

Val groaned, struggling to rise onto her forearms to see what had confused him. Looking down, she expected to see a mess of torn bloody flesh, revealing a gaping hole into her side. Instead, she found a precise deep entry point surrounded by unbroken skin — she was healing at a rate that wasn't humanly possible. But that hadn't been what had piqued Anakin's concern, and Val found its true source a moment later. Marring her skin were vein-like poisoned-coloured lines that sprawled from within the wound and were slowly expanding across her side. They fluctuated and spread out like webbing as she breathed, fluid like water just below the surface of her flesh.

Anakin looked up at her, alarm and concern evident on his face. He sighed raggedly and rebandaged the wound, staring silently for a few minutes at an indeterminable spot.

"Well," He said, standing up and raking a hand through his tousled hair. "I thought you couldn't get any stranger, and I was wrong."

Val didn't share his jovial nature at this time, she didn't have it in herself to laugh at the situation right now as she suddenly started to shiver. "Anakin, what's happening to me? This, and... what happened in the arena. That darkness..."

He stared at her quietly, his expression softening as he gazed into her frightened eyes. He sighed and sat on the edge of the couch, his hands clasped loosely in front of him. "I don't know, yet. But I promise you, we'll find out."

Val nodded dully, not sharing his optimism but relying deeply on his assuredness. Anakin took her hand and held it comfortingly, as though trying to breathe life back into her himself. "Until then, you should rest. I'll figure out a heading for us, somewhere strong in the Force so we can get some answers."

Val nodded once more, squeezing his hand as tightly as she could. He smiled softly, before beginning to make for the cockpit. A sudden panic flared in her chest as his hand began to slip away from her; she gripped it tightly again, her strength returning to her for a split second, and paused him midstep.

"Wait," She said, suddenly breathless as an unspeakable fear filled her at the thought of being unable to see him, to feel him. "Stay. Please, stay with me."

Anakin moved back to her side instantly, as though departing had broken his heart as it broke hers. He threaded his fingers tightly through hers again, whispering to her. "Of course, Val. Always."

Val shuffled forward, allowing Anakin to slip in behind her. Warmth encased her instantly, a remedy to the aching cold she felt in her battered bones. He placed one arm behind his head, the other draped lightly over her waist and his hand still in hers.

The world around them quieted, until nothing could be heard but two heartbeats in the dark. Anakin ran his thumb over her knuckles and Val found herself giving in to sleep. Her mind started slipping away from her, exhaustion and pain wearing her down and laying her to rest in the land of unconsciousness.

A last thought entered her mind then, important enough that she mumbled it to him quietly. "You got the wall side this time."

His gentle, lovely laugh was the last thing Val heard before she drifted off.

author's note:

...hi....it's me.....i'm still alive.

I'M SO SORRY FOR HOW LONG IT'S BEEN i just haven't really been feeling any motivation for this fic and writing has become a lot harder. I've also just been busy with my other anakin fic, collateral (which you should totally 100% read), and also with exams so my apologies!!

that said, this is my favourite chapter i love it so much and its SO important for the rest for this act so pay attention!

ALSO THANK YOU SM FOR 14K READS AND 1K VOTES I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!!!

anyways, leave me your thoughts and hopefully it won't be so long until my next update!!